


Take Shelter

by zahrabane



Category: Dark Artifices Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mark and Emma are cute in a sad way, Oneshot, Oral Sex, Sex, do they even have a ship name, idk why I feel this way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 08:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6559297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zahrabane/pseuds/zahrabane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They were a mess of blonde hair on the bed, the blur of light hair and Mark’s faerie grace and Emma’s warrior precision and their combined Nephilim power making them appear almost ethereal  - and then were, in a way, ethereal, ghosts of who they could’ve been, trying to piece themselves into each other like it could gives their bodies substance."<br/>-<br/>Or, the activities that the tragic "Why Lie?" cliffhanger from Lady Midnight could entail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> I adore Mark & Emma for all their tragic potential. THE TRAGEDY THAT IS THEIR LOVE LIVES, oh they should just cry in each other's arms. Which is what they do here, kind of, minus a lot of clothing. 
> 
> (This is my first fanfic)
> 
> (Song: Take Shelter - Years & Years)
> 
> Hope you like it! (I'm a little nervous)
> 
> Find me on tumblr as [zahrabane](http://zahrabane.tumblr.com/%22%3E)

“Why lie?” Mark Blackthorn said. 

Emma Carstairs took his hand and led him to the bed. 

Why lie indeed? Faeries never lied and they seemed like so much  _ fun _ ….

Mark floated behind her, and it felt like she was leading a dream through her bedroom, something not quite human, not quite real. Mark was the boy she had known from her childhood, disappeared like an old fantasy, and now suddenly he was back, and his hand was in hers, and it was all so surreal. 

She tugged his arm forward and he gracefully folded himself onto her bed, their hands still intertwined. He pulled her towards him, the angles of his faerie face pulled into a playful grin that didn’t quite meet his Blackthorn-blue eye. She fell onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist. They were both light, airy but strong, fitting together nicely in a way. Her free hand traced his sharp cheekbone, willing it to cut into her skin and make her forget what a softer cheek had once felt like beneath her wandering fingertips. 

Maybe if the Wild Hunt hadn’t taken Mark this would have fallen into place naturally. Maybe the Wild Hunt had twisted all of their lives into something that could never be quite right. 

Emma leant her forehead against Mark’s, and then pressed her lips to his like it could set the world straight again. 

Emma kissed like she trained, with determination, throwing her entire body into the lips against hers. But Mark kissed differently, slower and with a grace that could be someone soaring through the night sky, going just slow enough to catch the beauty of the Earth spinning below. Their lips met strangely at first, Emma trying to take Mark for all he had and Mark trying to lead Emma up, and up, his fingertips lightly running over her body like she a landscape he couldn’t quite reach from the sky. But they were both Nephilim, angel-blooded warriors, and eventually they fell into a rhythm like they were in battle, each searching for the other’s weak spots. Emma curled her finger around a lock of Mark’s hair and tugged; he moaned sweet and low into her mouth, retaliating by dragging his lips down her jaw until he was at her ear, flicking his tongue feather-light over the lobe, his breathe a hot whisper against her neck. Emma moved her fingers to his back and pulled him closer, her hands reaching up under his shirt. He continued kissing just below her ear, down her neck until he was trailing light kisses along her collarbone, as she dragged her nails down his back, willing him to come  _ closer _ , give her something  _ more.  _

Mark arched his back as Emma’s nails reached his hips, and then he was standing up, while Emma grabbed onto him. He turned them around and laid her on the bed. His hand crept under her hem of her shirt and he looked up at her, arching his sharp eyebrows.

“May I?” he asked.

Emma nodded her consent, and then her shirt was off and she was reaching back under Mark’s shirt, pulling it up, over his head to reveal taut muscle, sharp hip bones. She leant up, mouth going to Mark’s hip bone, flicking her tongue along its angles. He watched the muscles of her back ripple as she twisted around him, mesmerized, and then he was ghosting his hands up her back and unclasping her bra, laying her back down as their clothes floated to the floor. He pressed his chest against her breast, their bare skin finally meeting, and then their mouths joined again.

They were a mess of blonde hair on the bed, the blur of light hair and Mark’s faerie grace and Emma’s warrior precision and their combined Nephilim power making them appear almost ethereal  - and then were, in a way, ethereal, ghosts of who they could’ve been, trying to piece themselves into each other like it could gives their bodies substance. 

Emma could feel Mark hard against her and she arched into him, wrapping her legs around his hips. She pushed herself into him, like she could join their bodies together, chasing the heat running across where their skin burned at every point they touched, but there was still so much fabric between them…. 

Their kisses became more desperate. Mark bit down swiftly, precisely, on Emma’s bottom lip, and it was her turn to moan into his mouth. She slipped her hand between their bodies, fingertips just skimming below the waistband of his jeans. She broke the kiss and her mouth moved along his jaw, tongue tasting the slight stubble at the edge where his jawbone met his neck. 

“May I?” she breathed against his neck. 

“Yes,” he whispered into her hair. 

She unclasped his pants and pushed them down along with his boxers, running her fingers down his length. Mark ground against her, his hands moving to either side of her waist and pushing his hands into the sides of her jeans, pulling her pants and underwear down all at once. Emma gasped, suddenly able to feel all of him against her. She removed her hand from him for a moment, and he frowned, thrusting into nothing, but she was only pausing to pull the rest of his pants down, and disentangled her legs from her own pants before she tangled herself in him again, skin searing against skin. Mark was at her ear again, and her nails were trailing down his back, and he was kissing a trail down her neck, down her chest. He paused at her breasts, kissing each one and taking a nipple between his teeth. Emma grabbed at his ass, pulling him closer, trying not to scream, and then his mouth was gone and onto her stomach, going down further still. She stopped breathing when his mouth approached its target, his breath ghosting over the opening. 

“Please,” she whispered. 

And his tongue darted inside her, shadowhunter fast and faerie graceful, dancing inside her, stroking her, making her body  _ shake _ ....

She cried out, unable to stop herself, and this only spurred him on, his tongue reaching deeper against her, flattening out to run completely along her clit. She was shaking hard now, it was too much, so she grabbed a lock of his hair and pulled him up, kissing him roughly before flipping them over and mimicking the trail of kisses he had laid down her body. She stopped to nip at his hip bones, grazing her cheek on their sharp edge before moving to the centre where he was hard and aching and she kissed the hardness, bringing the tip of him into her mouth.  

He tasted sweet, like a summer night, and she licked the whole length of him before she took pity in his moans  and lent over to swallow him whole. She moved up and down languidly, basking in the noises she was causing him to make. She sucked his tip, flicking her tongue against it before diving back down and suddenly the summer night became a storm and he was desperately trying to thrust into her mouth. She pulled back with a smirk and he groaned until she stretched her body out over hers again to kiss his mouth. 

She could feel him pushing against her, seeking entrance into her. She ground down on him one last time before lifting herself up slightly, only to line herself perfectly up with him. She held still for a tantalizing moment, looking him straight in the eye. He wasn’t Julian, and he had never looked less like his brother than in this moment, wild and fae and absolutely wanting in the most free way that no self-disciplined shadowhunter could ever want pure pleasure. 

There was too much space between their bodies; space where Julian and Kieran and Cristina and all their hurt seemed to want to swoop in to torment them. So she sank down onto him, letting him inside her and shutting everything else out as the space between their bodies closed. He thrust into her, eyes fluttering shut, and she lent down to kiss him. He kissed her back feverishly and joined their hands together so they were connected at every point possible; her knees dug into the bed as she pressed down on him, wanting  _ more, more, more  _ of him to fill up the space inside her so no more hurt could get in. 

He broke the kiss and breathed heavily against her mouth, thrusts becoming erratic. She felt her body start to shake again and he broke their joined hands to grab her ass, pulling her in closer. 

“Emma,” he breathed against her mouth. “Emma I’m gonna…”

“It’s okay. Me too.”

“But… agh.” He bit her lip again, hands clenching her to him.

“Come for me, Mark,” she said. 

“Only if you come with me.”

She kissed him, hard, and then she was shaking to her very core, pulling him into her further still, and she felt him release pure heat into her, and he was withdrawing, and she was collapsing onto his chest.

She was still shaking, and he might’ve been shaking a bit too, as he pulled her hard into his arms. He buried his face in her hair, and she buried her face in his neck, not wanting to know what the world looked like now, now that she had claimed Mark, like she should have if things had been different for all of them.

She shook in his arms, clinging to him. He held onto her, no less desperate than he had been five minutes ago, but this was a different kind of desperate. It was something deeper, a more naked kind of need. No matter how tightly they held each other they could never be what the other needed, but they were all they had. 

She felt her phone vibrate under a pillow, and twisted around to dig it out, Mark still holding her in his arms. 

A text from Julian lit up the screen. 

_ Are you okay?  _

_ Yeah _ , she typed back. 

“Still lying, I see,” Mark commented. 


End file.
